


The Silver Swoop

by InnerSpectrum



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Sherlock gets distracted by a swoop of John's silver hair.





	The Silver Swoop

I’m laying on the sofa in my blue striped pyjamas bottoms, old gray t-shirt and blue dressing gown. My eyes are closed, fingers steepled under my chin. I should be in my mind palace researching clues for a case, but I cannot seem to focus.

\--Wire > Filament > Strands >Wool > Cable > Jumper

_John was wearing the blue jumper I like on him, it brings out his ey… Oh not again!_

_Focus Sherlock!_

\--Silver > Moonlight > Mercury > Strands

_John’s wind tossed silver strands flowed like mercury in the moonlight… what?_

_Oh, for God’s sake, Holmes get a hold of yourself man!_

I grab my own hair in frustration. This will not do.  I have to settle this. I have to  _know_.

_Oh good you're home, perfect timing._

I hear John coming up the stairs with groceries and resume my thinking position as he hangs his coat on a peg and enters. When I feel he is fully in the room I open my eyes to see him and…

_Oh…_

John’s hair has grown a little long. I know he’s going to cut it soon, but right now his hands are laden with groceries and one perfect wave graces his forehead in a silver swoop above his right brow.

Before I know it I am off the sofa, taking a bag and entering the kitchen with him to help put away the groceries.

_Why am I doing this?_

“Sherlock, you okay?”

_I have no idea!_

“Fine, why?” I answer instead as I look into his eyes, holding out my hand for the tea I know he bought as I am closest to the cabinet where we store it. He shakes his head slightly as he tosses the boxes and the swoop starts to fall into his field of vision. His hands are full with the cans of beans taken out of the bag when it falls completely into his eye. He arranges his lips to angle a puff of air in an attempt to blow it out of the way. Like its owner can be at times, it is stubborn and falls back as soon as he stops blowing. I do not smile outwardly, but John now knows me well enough to know that I am inwardly and shoots me a dirty look without any real venom to it.

Because I know it is going to happen, I stand next to him as he puts the beans away. As soon as the last can is in, his raised hand heads for the swoop to manually comb it back where to it belongs. I reach out and gently grab his wrist stopping him.

_What is wrong with me?_

_“_ Let your hair down.” The words fall unbidden from my lips, softly. “Relax.”

It is my tone as much as my action that startles him.  I feel his pulse.

_Elevated._

“First you help me put away the groceries and now this? Are you bloody high?” John looks at me incredulously as I finger the wave pushing it enough out of the way so it does not bother him, but still swoops becomingly.

_Pupils… Oh…_

He is clearly flabbergasted by my action and quickly licks his lip nervously, just a flick of tongue along the inside of his bottom lip.

_Oh dear god, I can’t pull my eyes away!_

He gently pulls his hand away and looks at me as though I’ve gone mad –  _and perhaps you have, Holmes, this is odd behavior even for you_ – but he doesn’t touch the swoop which was all I wanted.  

“You steep in your passion.” I say, and really he does.

John may not be as iron gripped about his emotions as I am –  _well not at this moment, apparently_  – he is a reserved man nonetheless, but that is just the surface. It’s easy to read what’s beneath the façade for him. I learned long ago John is a very passionate man. One whose passions would never look my way, or so I thought until a moment ago. One who keeps flicking his eyes to me hesitantly as he puts away the rest of the groceries.

_I understand, it’s not something I normally do, so why am I doing it now John? Think!_

I move to sit at my microscope. I have a few slides with some _things_  on them. Clearly that experiment is over and I deleted the data or I would know exactly what they were. I pretend to look at them regardless so I can remain in the kitchen and observe him. I can all but see the wheels turning as he thinks. His eyes sweep over me periodically as he scrubs his hands and begins dinner. A fleeting smile graces his face only to be replaced by a frown as he dismisses a thought, only to be replaced with a look of perhaps hope.

_That’s it darling._

Darling? I just called John darling in my own mind. I understand why I’ve been so distracted as of late. Why this man has consumed so much of my thoughts. I love him. So yes, I need to know how much of it is reciprocal.

_Take your time. There’s no rush._

“Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” I blink in surprise. My subterfuge became fact for a moment, so engrossed was I in rediscovering what was on the slide I did not notice as John came to stand next to me.

_It’s just you and me._

_Here… together._

“I am going to make a deduction.” John starts.

“Oh? This should be good.” I can’t help myself as I lean back as dubious as I am interested. As much as I want him to think what I am thinking, he can at times be so egregiously dense that I cannot help but have some doubts.

He rolls his eyes at my interruption and continues, “And if I am correct you’re going to tell me. Yes?”

I nod consent, I see his lips quirk slightly as one of my curls has apparently enraptured him.

_Ah, now you know how it feels, John._

He takes a breath and steels himself for what he is about to say. I equally brace myself – in anticipation or fear, even I am not sure.

“We’re in love with each other and are too afraid of rejection to show it.” he spews the words out as though if he did not say them immediately, he might not say them at all.

My mind reels as I stare at him. He said “we’re in love with each other”. My mind dumps all the little clues I had ignored into crystal perfect focus before me.

I see it now - and I know from the look he has as his eyes focus on mine, that the feelings are indeed reciprocal.

_He loves me!_

I am in my mind palace with alacrity storing this moment. It is never to be forgotten.

“Am I right?” I see a nervous smile emerge as a pang fear creeps into him and realize he’s awaiting my response.

_You’re perfect._

“Yes. God yes, John!” I breathe elated.

John’s smile goes from nervous, to shy, to utter brilliance in seconds.

_You’re radiant._

Because I am seated at the microscope and he is standing I am looking up to him for once. I see the shift in his eyes and a different nervousness blooms.

I feel it as well.

“I love you.” His face draws closer to mine.

“I know. And I love you.” I lift mine closer to his, eyes starting to close of their own volition.

“I know.” he smiles shyly. I feel his hands caress my jaw. My hands find his waist unerringly, just as I feel his lips touch mine. It’s a light kiss, a pressing of lips. Still, it's just a little too deep, lasting a little too long, to be called chaste.

“Damn.” I almost whine when he pulls away, even as my mind is storing the feel of those firm lips on mine.

He looks at me in wonder and I grin. It is rare that I curse. That single word from me is indeed profane.

I pull him to me while I stand as we kiss again. This time our tongues connect and I am undone. 

_I must have you._

Before the sun sets, I have more than the doctor’s hair in total disarray.

Before the sun rises, he gives cause for several expletives to fall from my lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I fully blame Benedict Cumberbatch and his hilarious OMAZE advert using that jaguar in a cello voice of his for the [_perfect cup of tea._ ](https://youtu.be/stxQq0kI4pk)


End file.
